


A Ridiculous Soulmark AU

by SeeThemFlying



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All a bit silly and ridiculous, F/M, I wrote it in about ten minutes because the idea just came to me, Modern AU, Soulmark AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Everybody knows your soulmark shows you the first words your soulmate will say to you when you finally meet. Brienne thought it was romantic.That is, until hers actually showed up.





	1. Her

**Author's Note:**

> So, soulmark AUs are a bit ridiculous and silly but I love them, so here is my very short attempt at one! I hope you enjoy!

Sansa’s soulmark first appeared when she was eleven. It was on her wrist and simply said: “Are you Juliet? Hello, I’m Romeo.”

“Everybody knows your soulmark is the first thing your soulmate will say to you when you meet,” squeaked Sansa excitedly. “What do you think mine means?”

Brienne shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you will meet him doing a production of _Romeo and Juliet?_”

Consequently, Sansa had spent years signing up for every amateur production of _Romeo and Juliet _she could find within a hundred mile radius. In the first, she had played a messenger; in the second, a tree; and in the third one of Romeo’s servants. All in all, Brienne went to see twenty six different productions of _Romeo and Juliet _where Sansa played various different characters, but never Juliet.

It all turned out to be a totally fruitless endeavour, however, as when Sansa was twenty-two, a very drunken Theon Greyjoy had come swaggering over to her in a nightclub and had decided that “Are you Juliet? Hello, I’m Romeo” was a good chat up line.

Sansa and Theon were married a year later, and she gave birth to their daughter Catelyn the year after that. However, they had ended up divorced because Theon had taken his dream job on the other side of the world and their relationship could not cope with the strain of the long distance. Even so, they stayed friends.

Margaery’s first appeared on her hip when she was twelve: “don’t worry, we’re all philosophers when looking at the stars”. Following Sansa’s example, Margaery had started hanging out at the local observatory and going to star-gazing nights.

That, too, proved pointless as, when she was nineteen, Margaery went to a university house party, got drunk and started screaming at the sky that everything was a waste of time since she had failed her Archaeology module. Quentyn Martell had found her and brought her a drink of water, and when she started profusely apologising for her mad shouting, he said gently, “don’t worry, we’re all philosophers when looking at the stars”.

Margaery and Quentyn broke up, got back together, broke up, and got back together over the next ten years, before they had such a furious row about table tennis that Quentyn had walked out of Margaery’s life and was never seen again.

Noting how utterly adorable her two best friends’ soulmarks had been, Brienne desperately hoped and prayed that she would get hers soon. She thought her soulmate would be a romantic like her, so was expecting some great sweeping declaration of love and loyalty. Part of her even hoped for “shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

Her soulmark eventually arrived, after much waiting, on the day after her fifteenth birthday, when Brienne woke up to find something written on the back of her thigh. She only caught a vague sighting of it while showering, before spending the next twenty minutes desperately trying to get a good look at it in her mirror. Her stomach fell dramatically when she read what was inscribed there.

“You know, if you eat too much asparagus your piss will come out green.”

She felt like she had been slapped, like someone had been playing an evil practical joke on her for years and this was the punchline. Shouldn’t soulmarks be romantic? This was just cruel; another injustice meted out to big, ugly Brienne. Why couldn’t she have pretty words like Sansa and Margaery? Why did she have to be singled out for mockery and derision? Why did she have to have something about piss written on her leg?

Embarrassed, Brienne would make sure to cover it up every single day with foundation, so much so that Sansa and Margaery had only found out about her soulmark by accident when the three of them had gone swimming in the ocean to mark the end of their A Levels.

“I’m not going to ask you what you think it means,” said Brienne sullenly, as her two friends stared down at the words, “because I think is shows that whoever my soulmate is, he’s an utter dickhead.”

In fact, Brienne was so outraged, she decided she wanted to get revenge on whoever her total tit of a soulmate was. If she was going to be marked with something as awful as that, so would he. Until she was twenty four, she kept a huge notebook of terrible things she could say to him when they finally, finally met and settled on something so outrageous that it only made her laugh at the deliciousness of it.

However, by the time both Sansa and Theon, and then Margaery and Quentyn’s great love affairs were over, Brienne had still not met Mr. Asparagus. At her thirtieth birthday party, she had ended up crying into Sansa’s shoulder asking why.

“You have to stop waiting for him,” said Sansa gently. “Live your life. You are not half a person; you don’t need him to be happy. You are complete on your own.”

Brienne knew her friend was right, so decided to throw herself into her career at the law firm as a distraction. By the time she was thirty-three, she had made partner, but it had been a terribly stressful process that had twisted her into something she was not quite happy being. The final piece of evidence that she had gone down the wrong path came when she threw a paperweight at her assistant Pod in a fit of pique after he got her photocopying wrong. Wanting to keep her job, Brienne had quickly agreed with her bosses to go on an anger management course.

The anger management course was held in a crappy old office building in Slough which didn’t have any heating. In the morning, they were made to watch a long PowerPoint about their feelings, before doing stupid trust exercises. Brienne was holding on to the idea of lunch in her mind, seeing it as some sort of mini paradise to escape the frustrating boredom of the morning. Consequently, she was severely disappointed that the buffet was empty of anything remotely tasty, as if the powers that be couldn’t trust the angry people with calorific goodness. Infuriatingly, it was all mainly vegetables.

Her rage building, Brienne got a plate and began to make a mountain of vegetation on it. As she was making sure all the green beans didn’t roll off, she realised that someone was standing behind her. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel him exuding resentment at being made to wait.

_I suppose he has anger management issues too, _she thought darkly.

Feeling a little resentful about life, the universe, and everything, she kept piling her plate up with food, not caring that he had to stand in his self-made, one person queue. Brienne got particularly pissed when he started tapping his foot.

_If I have to come to this stupid anger management course, he can wait five minutes for his damn salad!_

Eventually, her pettiness got a bit ridiculous when she started loading her plate up in slow motion, taking particular care with the asparagus spears. When he noticed what she was doing, he gave a click of his tongue and said in a mocking tone, “you know, if you eat too much asparagus your piss will come out green.”

Brienne froze in shock. Those words – which had haunted her for so many years, that had always made her feel marked and ugly – were entirely caused by the fact she was being a pissy little bitch at a buffet. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to look at her soulmate. She was pleasantly surprised to find he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, with his golden hair, green eyes, and obnoxious smirk. Even though she could acknowledge he was super attractive, his condescending expression was bloody infuriating. There had always been part of Brienne that thought if they ever did meet, she might forgive him his opening line and say something sweet if he proved to be particularly endearing, but his smug look just made her more determined than ever to say the line she had prepared half a lifetime ago.

“You know, Adolf Hitler only had one bollock.”

His green eyes went very wide and, because he was tilting his plate slightly in shock, his knife dropped to the floor. They didn’t say anything for a moment, but just stared at each other. Eventually, he let out a little laugh and extended his hand to her. She took it without question.

“Hi, I’m Jaime Lannister,” he smiled.

“Brienne Tarth,” she replied, shaking his hand. He had a firm grip, and at his touch all her worries melted away.

Grinning at her, he gave her a look that was both sharp and knowing, “I think we should go get a drink after they’ve bored us to death with another PowerPoint, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I agree,” she nodded, reflecting his expression.

That evening, he took her for a gin and tonic at the local pub. Three days later they eloped to Gretna Green, and then they were happily married for the next fifty-seven years.


	2. Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's perspective on the soulmark debacle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently my brain decided this needed a second chapter.
> 
> I wrote it on a train. I hope you enjoy!

Jaime did not understand why Cersei was so bothered that she got her soulmark behind her left ear when she was thirteen, while her twin remained stubbornly unblemished.

"I'm your brother, not your boyfriend," he sniped after she whinged about his untattooed state for the four-hundredth and seventieth time in a week. "I'd be a bit worried if we _were _soulmates."

"But we came into the world together, Jaime. We..."

_Blah, blah, blah, _he thought, and left her to her moaning so he could go and watch an episode of _Saved By the Bell._

At first, Jaime thought Cersei was upset because they did not get matching soulmarks at the exact same time - because, of course, the Lannister twins had to do _everything _at the exact same time - but then he realised that it was more what her soulmark _said _that was the problem. Jaime and Cersei had rarely spent a day apart since the day they were born, so his first words to her were probably in the vein of _goo goo gaga, _not what she had newly inscribed behind her right ear:

_Yo! Blondie!_

Cersei was so upset about the entire thing that Jaime decided if his soulmark ever did turn up, he would keep it a secret from his sister. If it was anywhere other than behind his right ear or it was something that Cersei had obviously never said to him, it would only make her sad and, because he loved her, he didn't want to see her cry.

The conspiracy to keep his soulmark secret finally began one rainy night when Jaime was seventeen, when, just after he had had a date with Mrs Palm and her five lovely daughters, he noticed the sole of his left foot was itchy. Pulling his foot up so he could have a look, a smile of wry amusement crossed his face when he saw what was written there.

_You know, Adolf Hitler only had one bollock._

Letting out a huff of laughter, Jaime was amused to think that he now looked like some weird Woody the Cowboy, and that his soulmate must be one freaky chick. He had been so worried that she would mutilate him with some horrible romantic rubbish, that he was pleasantly surprised to find a reference to the urban legend that the leader of the Third Reich had been testicularly challenged. Liking her weirdness, Jaime instantly dubbed her "my wench" - it felt appropriate somehow - and then decided to celebrate conceptualising her in his mind by putting on his walkman and listening to Will Smith's _Gettin' Jiggy Wit It_, because he was a teenager and it was 1997.

As it was easy to keep the bottom of his left foot obscured every time he was with Cersei, Jaime only thought about his wench the grand total of three times over the next twenty years. The first was when he came home from his first term at University and his ten year old brother charged into him, near jumping up and down with excitement.

"Jaime!"

"What?"

"Look! Look! I have my soulmark!"

As Tyrion ran forward, he twisted so he could show Jaime his shoulder. Squinting so in order to have a closer look, Jaime realised he could make out the words "I like your hair" in a pretty cursive hand on his brother's skin. As Tyrion seemed to think that was a lovely thing to have inscribed on his shoulder, Jaime only gave him a happy thumbs up and kept his true opinion to himself.

_How bland, _he thought. _My one is much better. It is personal to my crazy wench._

The second time was when he was twenty eight. His father had organised him and Cersei a joint birthday party, which turned out to be a boring, bland affair full of business associates rather than real friends. Therefore, it was an utter surprise when the evening took a romantic turn. Balon Greyjoy, their father's business partner, arrived with his slightly insane (and drunk) brother Euron Greyjoy. He spent the whole evening doing an appalling Jack Sparrow impression, before appearing just as Jaime and Cersei were cutting the cake. Bowling into the middle of the photo, he turned and looked at Cersei, cackling at his social blunder.

"Yo! Blondie!"

Jaime had expected her to be furious, so her broadening grin was a total shock.

_Mmm, _thought Jaime. _Perhaps she has a thing for pirates._

It was in that moment that everything was changed forever, however, as Cersei's green eyes were illuminated with such excitement that Jaime immediately knew that the Lannister twins would never truly be a pair again. Two months later Euron and Cersei got married on a beach in Bali, and half a year after that she announced she was pregnant. It was only when Euron bailed on Cersei, two days before she gave birth, never to be heard of again, that Jaime thought of his own wench.

_I've never met her, _he thought, _but my wench wouldn't treat me that way. She has an interesting sense of humour, sure, but she will love me._

_Like I'll love her._

The third time he thought of her was two weeks after his fortieth birthday. He had been sent to some stupid anger management course in Slough, after he had punched his colleague Gregor Clegane for threatening his secretary Pia. Jaime tried to tell higher management that he had just been protecting Pia's honour, but they had refused to listen, and he only kept his job because of his father's influence. Then, to tick a box on a form, Jaime had to take part in said anger management course which, ironically, just made him angrier than he already was.

After a morning of powerpoints and trust exercises with a group of people extending from the mildly irritated to the apoplectic, Jaime found himself forming a queue for one for the lunchtime buffet behind a woman with the longest legs he had ever seen. Although he was pleased she was taking so long to load up her plate, as it gave him a good opportunity to admire her almost perfectly sculpted calves, Jaime eventually decided he wanted to catch the attention of this angry Amazon, so started tapping his foot in fake annoyance. Jaime could see it was winding her up by the way her very muscular shoulders tightened, and he appreciated how she fought fire with fire by starting to pick up her asparagus spears in slow motion. Laughing to himself, Jaime clicked his tongue mockingly and said, "you know, if you eat too much asparagus your piss will come out green."

If Jaime thought she looked tense before, now the woman was almost as still as a statue. Momentarily confused about what he had done, Jaime got his answer when she turned around and found himself staring into the most spellbinding pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.

"You know, Adolf Hitler only had one bollock."

_Ah, _he thought happily, _my wench wanted revenge._

_Good for her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I luuuurrrrvvveee comments and kudos, they make me a better writer!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that! Comments and kudos make me happy!


End file.
